


Forgetting

by tatooedlaura



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Taking an impossibly deep breath before bumping shoulders with her, “do you think, maybe, this could be one of those nights where we get drunk and forget we work together?”
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	Forgetting

It was a stupid retirement gathering at the end of the day, the best way *insert sarcasm here* to end Friday, in Mulder’s opinion. It became especially fun when the assistant director who was doing the retired pointed the pair out, commenting on the Amber Lynn LaPierre case, which he called the crowning achievement in his long and lauded career with the Bureau. Thanking them for their contribution to his legacy, both nodded, smiled, said their polite thank yous while inside, wishing they were literally anywhere but there.

Then came the inevitable discussion about the case, Scully plowing ahead, dealing with most of the comments until Mulder leaned into her, mouth to ear, “I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, she continued with her end of the present conversation, then two others before she realized he still wasn’t back. Excusing herself, she slipped quietly out the door. Wondering for a moment if he’d fled the building completely or just the room, she thought, then, for some unknown reason, decided to try the stairwell before heading to the basement. Opening the oft-used door at the end of the hall, a beautiful sunset greeted her as well as a lone Mulder sitting on the first step down, quietly contemplating the world while bathed in pink and purple hues.

Sitting carefully beside him, skirt causing minor issues, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

Taking an impossibly deep breath before bumping shoulders with her, “do you think, maybe, this could be one of those nights where we get drunk and forget we work together?”

She’d asked him that exact question for the first and only time roughly four months earlier and with a moment’s hesitation to calculate where the nearest liquor store was, she returned the answered he’d been hoping for, “I think it needs to be one of those nights and you’ve got that liquor store on the corner so I vote your place.”

Bumping her a second time, he stood up, nodding his head in the direction of the stairs, “I think we’ve worked long enough today.”

She stood with just a little help from his hand, tugging her skirt straight, “agreed.”

&&&&&&&&&

She picked up the Long Island, the big pre-mix bottle, third shelf, second aisle, they shopped here a little too often, then headed to Mulder’s. Beating him there by ten minutes, she had time to clear the couch and coffee table of littered papers and hamburger wrappers, empty glasses and several pairs of socks. Smiling at the socks, she then filled the table with bottles of water, the Long Island (opened, aerator insert removed for ease of swilling) and a roll of paper towel because she knew he’d be stopping for Subway and they never sent him home with napkins.

Scully then had time to contemplate the first time they’d mentioned their question out loud. She honestly didn’t want to think about the string of events that led to her request but that night had been Rum and Coke and sitting on his couch, not sure how to start anything until Mulder said something so quiet she had to turn to hear him repeat his statement.

She ran into his mouth and from there, they’d spent a chaste 87 minutes alternating between drinking, making out, water interludes sporadic, straight rum by the end, coke chaser when they remembered until the week’s worth of tension left her shoulders, muscles warm and relaxed, lips swollen, hands never traveling below her neck except to turn her at the waist for a better angle.

Heads thoroughly spinning by the time the pair pulled apart in a mutually silent agreement that it was time, Scully went in for another kiss before looking at him blurrily, enjoying their warm, humid silence which Mulder only broke to ask, “couch or bed? I’ll take whichever you don’t want.”

Smiling at him, she stretched, much like a cat, limbs shaking, back curving, “couch is fine.”

Logistics figured a few minutes later, both were crashed in their respective beds, soundly asleep through the remainder of the night.

Mulder made it home a minute later, returning Scully to present day, and she took the bags of food from him, carrying them to the kitchen while he shed shoes, jacket, button down, leaving him in a crew-neck white t-shirt and mismatched socks. Following her into the kitchen, he grabbed the open bottle from the coffee table as he passed. Swigging deep, he handed it to her, “premix. I appreciate you more and more every day.”

“Why take the time to make it yourself when the Captain has done it for you already?” Seeing the forlorn expression still clear on his face, she turned to look at the counter, measuring up the height before glancing back at him, “help me up here, will you? I’d like to hug you face to face for once.”

Not about to question that request, he popped her up, allowing her time to adjust her skirt before handing her the bottle, “madam.”

Two gulps later, she angled the bottle in his direction, “for the win,” then waved her fingers at him, “come here.”

Obeying, he was in her arms, as close as possibly given counter and thigh restriction from skirt. Holding her had an instant effect on his blood pressure, his psyche, his heart rate and brain function, calm washing over him the longer he touched her. Not enough for him at the moment, however, he scooted her closer to the edge of the counter, skirt hiking up further, her thighs pressing his sides. About to do something about this, Scully did it for him, mouth on his neck, lips against pulse, tongue running lightly over skin. Kissing her way up his neck, across his jaw, she found his mouth, neck twisting for best access and without thought, legs locking around him, ankle hook completing the loop.

He would not be arguing.

Staying there another minute, he decided, given the course of the evening, to take creative license and wrapping arms around her waist, picked her up, moving her to the couch without breaking contact. She snagged the bottle as he moved them past it and knowing he had to set her down because sitting down with her like this would break her ankles and nobody needed that tonight, Scully grinned as she slid to the floor, her skirt staying stuck to her upper thighs. Another three deep swallows from the bottle, she handed it to Mulder, watching his perfectly sculpted throat down five, “next time we come up for air, water break.”

“Agreed.” Sitting right down on the couch, he expected her to drop beside him but instead, she wiggled the skirt a little higher and climbed onto his lap, “last time, I had a crick in my neck. I’m not dealing with that again.”

Hands firmly on her waist, he smiled, “I like your thinking.”

Mouth immediately back on his, he managed to keep his hands to himself until the liquor began buzzing his brain, separating thought from consequence but keeping intact decorum at its most rudimentary, his hands hesitantly shifting four inches above her waist, still above her shirt until Scully pulled back, whispering into his mouth, “I don’t mind.”

He didn’t take full advantage of the situation but the simple feeling of running his hands up and down her back made him feel like he’d just won the lottery, over silk blouse, ridge of bra back, imaginary outline of existing tattoo. Another few minutes and Scully moved away, lips red, cheeks pink, eyes bright as she reached behind her, breasts jutting into Mulder’s face, looking for water. Drinking down half a bottle, she handed the rest to Mulder, “it’s getting warm in here.”

Managing to keep his eyes mostly on hers, “that okay?”

Tossing the empty water bottle behind her, she then took up the Long Island, another two deep pulls before offering it to her partner, “very good.” After he drank, she deposited it back on the table and returned like a magnet to his mouth, her hands now in and through his hair, cradling his ears, thumbs running over temples, hips sliding forward until a minute later, she stood up, “I still have most of my faculties and I’m making a request.” She wavered once as the room tilted ever so slightly, “this skirt is irritating the hell out of me. Would you mind if I take it off?”

With a grin, he fell in love withher all over again, “no, that’s fine.”

“Thanks.” Skirt hitting the floor a moment later, her blouse hung low enough not to reveal anything of interesting importance and settling back on his lap, she nodded at him, “much better.”

“I’m glad.”

This time, when she re-settled, she re-settled closer to him, his obvious arousal at the whole situation not bothering her in the slightest, unknowingly grinding once against him before commencing with their previous activities.

Liquor working its magic, Mulder decided that given she was now in her underwear on his lap, that afforded him hands on ass, which elicited a tandem ‘hhmmmm’ from both and another inch hip-slide forward. Deciding what the hell, he then moved his hands up under her shirt, finding warm skin and bumping backbone, hands callous-rough as they danced over rib and ridge. Feeling her smile, he felt her leave his lips, moving down his chin to his Adam’s Apple, mouthing it several times before following down to his shirt collar, then sitting back, putting welcome pressure on particular parts, “it is only fair that since I have no skirt, you need no shirt.”

He loved that she lost her contractions when she drank. Apostrophes went out the window for some reason, all words spoken precisely and slurry but never contracted. Sitting up immediately, he pulled the offending garment off and dropped it to the couch beside them, “sounds fair indeed.”

Another two mouthfuls of Long Island for both, her hands ran immediately over his chest, her deep breath and stuttered sigh telling him more than words ever could, fingers playing over his nipples, tongue tracing his collarbone. It was when she gripped his sides and smashed herself down on him, favorite parts aligning, that he finally let out a moaning groan, “Scully.”

Whispering in his ear, “was that good?”

“If you’re trying to kill me, yes.”

Sitting back again, she wiggled a few more times, lighter yet oddly, more intense. Quick glance at the clock across the dimly lit room, she looked down at him, his gaze filled with unmistakable adoration, “it has been over an hour, need a break?”

“I will never need a break from you.”

Reaching back, she snagged another water, drinking half again and waiting until Mulder finished it to toss it the way of the first empty. Next, more liquor went down, bottle half gone at this point before, “would you mind if I took the blouse off? This thing holds heat like you would not believe.”

Words gone, head nodded, her shirt landed on the table, sweat glistening above and below white cotton bra but before he could process more than half a reverent look, he had her face pulled back to his, hands sliding down her slowly cooling back and right past the top of her underwear, bare hands on bare ass in under a second.

She did not complain, rocking a rhythm on him that was making him see stars.

Everything was logical to them up to this point. The logic of six years and half a bottle of Long Island Ice Tea but whatever and Mulder’s next suggestion followed their logical pursuit. It took a few minutes to form the idea, then the sentence, but pulling away from her mouth, whimpering either internally or for the world to hear, he had to share it with her, “um, so as much as I am loving this, there are parts of me that are dying because they are trapped, wonderfully so but still friction-ly, and are … shit, Scully, the zipper of my pants is about to cause some damage.”

“Hell. Okay.” She stood immediately and hips still moving in some sort of fluid motion which could very well hold Mulder’s attention until the end of time, he took advantage and lifting his butt, soon was sitting there in boxers, happy for relief and unembarrassed by his obvious reaction to her.

She admired for a moment, then settled right back on him, body pressed firmly against all available Mulder.

His hands moved to her hips, moving her against him, the rhythm of his mouth getting erratic as all attention moved elsewhere. Scully was having her own amount of trouble holding focus and when his hands moved to unclasp her bra, she could have sang the Halleluiah chorus had she thought to leave his lips.

Needing a final pull of liquor before anything else, she sat back on his thighs, three mouthful going down her throat first, then Mulder took four, capping the bottle and dropping it to the floor before his mouth moved not to hers again but to her breasts, taking in his dreamt of mouthful, other hand filled with other breast as Scully shut her eyes, shifting and sliding against him, parts finally making solid contact and she stood suddenly, swaying as she shed her last piece of clothing, then demanded Mulder’s boxers with a silent outstretched hand and begging eyes. Obliging, she was back on him, wetter than wet, rubbing hard head against aching clit, then, she slid back and forth against him, Mulder’s mouth latched back to her breast and his hands carrying her forward and back. Letting go of her, he told her, alcohol slur evident, “I am so close to that spot, Scully. Another inch and we could … just … we could.”

Leaning forward, she slipped her teeth around his earlobe, tugging lightly before sucking for a moment, then whispering, “there cannot be liquor involved when that happens. Sorry.”

There was absolutely no reason for her to apologize and he told her as such, “but can something else happen because unless you stop moving, it’s going to anyways and I’d rather have permission to do so.”

His strained voice made her grin and sitting back once again, she ran one hand down her belly and bracing with the other against his knee, she began rubbing her clit, “oh, I am good with everything else.”

Needing to ask one last time, “do you need any more Tea?”

“I have not got time for that now.” And she rubbed a little faster.

Wrapping his hand around himself, their knuckles kept bumping until they found a matched rhythm and as her muscles clenched and her head dropped back, he came as well, all over himself and her, not caring about anything in the moment but his Scully.

Then their combined mess along with the sweat generated by the last hour and a half suddenly got the better of his ass’s grip on the couch. She moved slightly, he shot forward, feet unable to catch him, and both, for a fleeting moment, wondered if there was an earthquake as they slid to the ground, Scully’s back sliding against the coffee table edge, Mulder’s bare butt landing on a crackling water bottle.

He managed to get an arm around her though, so she didn’t hit the floor at the worst angle ever and ‘sluggish but still there’ reflexes on her part had her move enough not to break his dick, softening but still hard enough to cause some trouble had it been bent sideways under her drunken weight.

Both then sat there in silence, until, of course, the giggles set in.

It took a good five minutes to get things under control and not set the other off with a simple look. Scully, now wrapped in one of Mulder’s many blankets, looked from the ¾ empty Long Island bottle to the water in her hand, “can I stay here tonight?”

Also in a blanket, and equally worried about the amount they’d consumed, he opened two more bottles of water for them, the world beginning to tilt again, “like I’d let you drive anywhere after that much Captain.”

Looking over at him, grin wide as she missed her mouth with the water bottle on the first try but making it the second, she swallowed half before speaking, “for a minute there, I actually did forget we worked together.”

“Me, too.”

Shifting up to give him a kiss on the cheek, she swayed into him, forgetting how to sit back upright momentarily, “now, if you would be so kind as to find me a pillow and another blanket, I am going to go clean up, then come back here and go to bed because if I do not lay down very soon, I am going to tip over even more than I am now.”

Contractions still gone, he knew she wasn’t kidding about the tipping thing, the alcohol coursing through her veins would have her asleep in seconds and sporting one hell of a headache tomorrow. Carefully standing, he got her up and to the bathroom, blanket firmly in place and then, collecting some pajama pants and a t-shirt for her, he handed them through the partially open door, ignoring the sounds of her peeing, then the water running.

Seriously, how many times could he fall in love in one evening?

Soon, she was back, curled on the couch, Oscar the Grouch shirt in place, blankets piled high, head deep in down pillow. Beckoning him to her level with her finger, he had to kneel, knowing if he leaned, he’d fall, “what’s up?”

“I love you, Mulder. You are my best friend and I love you.”

Kissing her forehead, he struggled to stand back up, “I love you and you are my best friend, too.” Pointing to the table, “I left you an empty pot so if you puke, do it in that, please, all right?”

“Do not forget one for yourself.”

Holding up his own, “got it. G’night.”

She was already asleep.

He would dream well tonight.

&&&&&&&&&&&

Since the curtains and blinds were closed, the light didn’t wake either of them until late afternoon. Scully was up before Mulder and after downing several glasses of water and what felt like a handful of aspirin, she opened her forgotten Subway, settling with it on the couch, remote in hand.

Mulde wandered out a few minutes later and stared at her for a moment, then retrieved his sandwich as well, grabbing the bottle of aspirin before sitting down beside her, tugging half her blanket over his knees, “hi.”

“Hi.”

“What are we watching?”

“The Flintstones.”

Giving her wild hair and dark hickey on her neck a good, long look, he aimed a grin at her, “mind if I join you?”

Taking in a matching bruise on Mulder’s neck and his dancing eyes, “your couch.”

Settling in a little better, he unwrapped his roast beef on white, “so, honest answer, please. Should we be embarrassed or anything about last night?”

Scully thought while she chewed, then smiling crookedly, “the only thing I’m embarrassed about is having ended up on the floor.” Looking at him critically, “what about you? Honest answer.”

“Mostly I’m unnerved by how much my ass was sweating, in all seriousness.” Taking his first bite, he felt calmer than he had in forever, “want to stay over again tonight?”

“Sure. I hadn’t planned on leaving this couch until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Mexican for dinner?”

“As long as they deliver.”

“They do.”

Mid-chew, she leaned over and kissed his t-shirted shoulder, “yay.”


End file.
